Bang the Drum Slowly... and Quietly, Please.

The pain of New Year's Day is upon us. Of course, I sit all smug and superior since I gave up drinking years ago in favor of having a liver. Nary a drop passed my lips last night at the Old Folks' New Year's Party. But we partied hard, I tell you. We ate, we burped, we told tales of a woman who pushed her husband out the back door in a wheel chair and broke his neck when it fell over. You haven't lived till that sounds funny to you. It's okay, she eventually took him to the Emergency Room and the 89 year-old is doing well.... though I am not sure he knows it.

The party wound down soon after the fireworks display was over... that would be a little after 9 PM. Now I have a little car trouble to deal with... there was a warning alert about a tire being low on air... all I have to figure out is which one, put some in, and get it replaced by nitrogen come Thursday. That's what they fill our tires up with now; nitrogen. I guess people rebelled against having to put their credit cards in the air pumps at the gas stations. Now, there's good reason to pay through the nose for something that abundant.

We're spoiled, aren't we? Our cars tell us when to change the oil, when our tires are low, and when we are about to crash into the car in the next lane. We still can't just set the destination and take a nap as the car takes us there... though it sometimes seems more than a few do around here.

Have a Happy New Year... It'll take 365 days to get through and there's no skipping that.